White Flag

After a cruel night of words and tears, I had to step on dog poo the moment I walked to the beach this morning. Maybe my eyes were just blinded from the puffiness.

How many more cruel tricks will the heavens play on me?

Please just let them all roll now, once and for all - so I can live on in quiet peace. A six-year-long prank that I stupidly fell for is already more than I can take.

I've had enough. I need to rest my tired soul.


I have a tremendous lot of words to say, and tears to cry. And it's awfully wearying to keep myself from either. The weekend is looking especially long to me.

I will not want to say anything to anyone else, nor let my tears fall in front of anyone else. Maybe, except you.

But why won't you even want to listen to my fears and thoughts?

You have your needs. I try to understand what they are and be the best I can to do whatever I can to provide your needs. I suppress myself sometimes even. But do you even bother to understand what my needs are?

I don't want to believe it, but you're becoming someone I can't even love anymore.

Why is my love so unappreciated? Is my love worth nothing? Am I worth nothing at all in your life?


If only fate hadn't made you decide to switch from the arts to the accounting course.

If only fate hadn't made you decide to switch from Hall 6 to Hall 9 to be with your buddies.

If only fate hadn't put me on the same bus ride with you, and found me the only seat right opposite you, during the camp.

If only fate hadn't made Alvin, your leader my friend, introduce the both of us.

If only fate hadn't made me bump into you later on in the supermarket.

If only fate hadn't put you in a room two floors above right across from mine, where I could see you playing on your computer everytime I put out my laundry.

If only fate hadn't put you in my path all the time, in the corridors, at hall events, in canteens, at D&Ds, giving us the opportunity to flirt harmlessly.

If only fate hadn't made us love basketball so much and bump into each other on the courts all the time.

If only fate hadn't made you come to my room to study into the nights, to challenge me to games of minesweeper, to make me laugh.

If only fate hadn't made you tell me your deepest thoughts and fears, and made you tear in my room one late night as we were talking, and made my heart feel even more for you.

If only fate had put me into this world in a more different time or place.

Then perhaps I would never have met you, nor noticed you, my whole life.

And I wish I had never met you, then perhaps I would never have fallen in love with you. And fallen so badly now.


If only I hadn't been born such a helpless romantic, then perhaps I would never have truly believed God had devised such a dramatic love story and great plan to plant the one in my life.

If only fate hadn't made you say you loved me, then perhaps I wouldn't have loved you back even more.

If only fate hadn't made me believe you were the one, then perhaps I wouldn't feel so aimless right now.

If only fate had found another sorry soul to play this prank on instead. Then perhaps I wouldn't be where I am now.

I don't even know where I am now. I'm fucking neither here nor there.


If I were still a 23-year-old that everyone deems a pretty young thing, then perhaps I wouldn't be feeling so lost right now - just like a 28-year-old man who has just finally finished school and begun to step into the real world - there would be so many other greener pastures to wander and I'd still have boundless newfound energy to explore.

Being a 28-year-old woman who has foolishly given her all, and then lost it all, is neither fucking here nor there.

Where is she to go from here?

Away. That's where.


I should not have regrets, like I used to tell myself - because I chose this give-all option on my own, under no one's coercion.

The emotional abuse I'm going through is perhaps, a large part, self-inflicted. I may have created a monster out of my own doing.

But letting go now comes with a lot of anger and regrets - all that I've given out may never be recovered. The 'me' I've lost may never return.

I wish I had been a cynic right from the start.

The cynicism comes now only after the faith is lost and only bitterness is left.


To the 'untouchable': all I ever wanted to do all this while, for six fucking years, is to help you be a better person. I suppose I'm just ranked now in the lowest of your caste system.

I think I have just failed. I'm sorry to you - and to myself.

I am putting up my white flag right now, since no truce can be reached. I hope my decision makes you happy.